Broadway & Me

I'm a theater lover. I am happiest when I am sitting in a theater. Or talking about theater. Or reading about theater. Or now blogging about it. If you’re reading this, you're probably a theater lover too and I hope you’ll keep me company as I blog my way through each Broadway season.

January 19, 2019

Transgression—social, sexual and otherwise—has been the bread
and butter of Neil LaBute’s career. It might be the downfall of it too. Last year, allegations about some unidentified misconduct caused theater organizations such as MCC
Theater, 59E59 Theaters and others to sever longstanding ties with him (click here to read more about that).

And so it’s hard to put all of that aside when
looking at this year’s iteration of the annual LaBute New Theater Festival, a
trio of one-acts that opened at the Davenport Theater this week. And I don’t think LaBute intended
us to. For these plays, metaphorical stations of the cross in public shaming, struck
me as his attempt to make us think about the way he believes he’s been treated.

The first and final pieces are character studies in which
one actor addresses the audience directly. Karl, the sole character in the
opening monologue The Fourth Reich, matter-of-factly offers the argument that
the major reason Hitler has such a heinous reputation is because he lost the war,
leaving the people who defeated him to portray him as the epitome of evil.

This, of course, overlooks Hitler’s complicity in exterminating millions of innocent people. But that’s not the way Karl sees it. “You get to write the history when you win,” he says, noting that Ulysses S. Grant oversaw the genocide of Native Americans but is
nonetheless regarded as an American hero. “And what about me?,” Karl asks, no doubt channeling LaBute's own sentiments.
“Should I be tossed out in the garbage ‘causeof one bad thing I did, years ago, when I was a kid?”

Katie, the young woman in the closing monologue Unlikely
Japan, wrestles with that question too. She confides that she’s mourning her
high-school boyfriend who was recently killed in a mass shooting. Her grief is mainly driven by her fear that dumping him 10 years ago set off a chain of events that landed
him in the place where the massacre occurred. Her guilt raises the butterfly-effect-like question of
whether one careless misdeed can lead to disastrous results.

These bookend reveries, the first directed by John Pierson
and the second by LaBute himself, are well performed by Eric Dean White and Gia
Crovatin but they’re slight works. And, if I’m going to be honest, they’re annoying
too, striking me as the kind of weaselly why-is-everybody-always-picking-on-me
or how-was-I-supposed-to-know-it-would-turn-out-like-that excuses kids give when
they don’t want to take responsibility for their own actions.

The middle play, a two-hander also directed by Pierson, is more
substantial than the other two but I winced when I first saw its title: Great Negro Works of Art.
It wasn’t just the anachronistic word but the fact that race is such a hot-wire
issue and I wasn’t sure how a provocateur like LaBute would handle it.

His approach here is to view racial dynamics and political correctness through the
prism of a first date between a white woman and a black man who’ve met on an
internet dating site. The woman Jerri, played with appropriate blind-date jitteriness
by Brenda Meaney, chose a museum showing the titular exhibit for their first
face-to-face encounter. The man Tom, a layered performance by Keilyn Durrel
Jones, arrives late bearing flowers and a tendency to hide behind humor when
he’s nervous.

Each is openly attracted to the other but their attempts at
small talk quickly dissolve into a debate over semantics (what does it mean to
lie) and sensibilities (should lawn jockeys be considered works of art or symbols
of oppression). They struggle to find common ground by telling one another that
people are too sensitive about subjects like gender and race and that everyone
should just say what they feel. But each time one of them tries to do that, the other
misinterprets what’s being said.

Presented separately, these three plays might seem no more
than routine additions to the LaBute canon of provocative characters and uneasy situations designed to throw viewers off balance. But taken
together, they add up to a declaration that truth is merely the property of
whoever is telling a tale. Which makes me sad because although I’m a
longtime LaBute fan, Hitler is Hitler and however you tell his story, millions of people died because of him.

January 12, 2019

Yep; I've slipped back into a hole that’s going to keep me from doing a regular post today. But this isn't a disagreeable hole. I fell into it by (1) reading two fascinating books about 19th century theater for a review I've been asked to write, (2) celebrating my wedding anniversary with my adored husband K and (3) appearing on a panel with my BroadwayRadio colleagues at this year's BroadwayCon on the morning this is posted. But things should settle down next week. I've got some shows lined up to see and am already looking forward to sharing my thoughts about them with you. So hope to see you again then.

January 5, 2019

The weather has been unseasonably warm here in the city but
the winter theater festivals, including a few new ones, are plowing ahead as
usual and so I thought I’d do a redux of the guide to them I did a couple of
years ago. These theatrical expositions tend to showcase experimental works,
under-represented performers and other kinds of productions that don't get as much
attention during the rest of the year. And their ticket prices are cheaper too.

But I'm going to start this off with BroadwayCon. This three-day fandom extravaganza of panels, workshops and sing-alongs is returning to its original home at the New York Hilton Midtown next weekend, Jan. 11 to 13. My BroadwayRadio pals and I are joining in the festivities on Saturday, Jan.13, with a live version of the “This Week on Broadway” show and we’d love to have you join us. You can find more about how to do that by clicking here.

Below are a few of the other events that you might want to catch while waiting
for the big spring shows to open. I’ve listed them in order of how much time
you still have left to see them; click on their titles for more info:

Under the Radar: This 15th edition of the Public Theater’s venerable winter series began
Jan. 3, runs through Jan. 13, and features more acts homegrown in the U.S. than
usual but it still boasts artists from nine countries.

American Realness: Dance is the connective thread that ties
together the 17 performers scheduled to explore themes ranging from ancient
rites to sci-fi fantasies in spaces spread across four of New York’s five
boroughs from Jan. 4 to 13.

Prototype: Performing in venues from La MaMa in the East
Village to Harlem Stage uptown, this festival, which runs from Jan. 5 to 13,
is devoted to chamber operas and other musical theater works and is offering
12 productions this year, including a bilingual opera performed in Spanish and
English.

First Nations Dialogues: This first-time series of performances,
workshops, discussions and ceremonies led by indigenous artists representing tribal peoples from Australia,
Canada and the U.S. will be held in a variety of downtown
venues from Jan. 5 to 12.

Act One; One Act Festival: Lots of up-and-coming theater
makers now live in Long Island City and once again its Secret Theatre is
hosting three different programs of short comedies, dramas and dramadies from
Jan. 2-10, and inviting audience members to vote on their favorites, which will
get encore performances on Jan. 13.

DirectorFest: The Drama League is marking its 35th celebration of young directors with a racially diverse slate of newbies showing off their stagings of both classic plays
and original works in various theatrical spaces from Jan 11 to 28.

Exponential Festival: Based in Brooklyn and supported in part by a Kickstarter campaign, this festival is back for the fourth time, running from Jan. 4 thru Feb. 13 with works from an eclectic mix of performance artists.

The Fire This Time Festival: Taking its name from the seminal James
Baldwin book, this festival spotlights black playwrights from all parts of the
African diaspora. Past participants have included Jocelyn Bioh, Marcus Gardley and Dominique Morisseau. Eight newcomers will present their works from
Jan. 21 thru Feb. 2

Winterfest: The New York Theater Festival's annual showcase for
still unknown-writers will feature some 50 Fringe-style productions that
started Dec. 30 and will run thru March 10 at the Hudson Guild Theatre in
Chelsea.

Frigid New York Festival: Now celebrating its 10th year, this
theatrical grab bag will offer works by 30 different companies from Feb. 20 thru
March 10

December 29, 2018

The end of the year has sneaked up on me. I got lost in the
whir of finishing the school semester where I teach, getting ready for
Christmas and dealing with some health problems (nothing serious: a bad cold
and a lingering foot injury). But I’ve found time to read the year-end 10 Best
lists, including the round-up of them that my blogger pal Jonathan Mandell puts
together every year and which you can find by clicking here.

These lists always make me smile because, of course, there
is no absolute best. I counted more than 50 different shows that popped up on
the nearly two dozen 10 Best lists I saw or heard on podcasts. And even a
much-admired show like The Ferryman failed to make the cut for some critics.

That’s in part because there was so much good stuff to see year. But it's also because theater is a conversation between the people
who make a show and each of us who is lucky enough to see it. And how we come
out feeling about a show depends on all kinds of things from how an actor performed
his part to whether he looks like an old boyfriend, from how well a playwright
explores a theme to whether that theme is an issue that touches us personally,
from the magic of the stagecraft to how much we needed a good laugh or a quiet cry that day.

So, with all that in mind, here, in my usual cop-out alphabetical order, are 10
shows that, for various reasons, stood out for me from the nearly 140 shows I
saw this year:

Edward Albee's At Home at the Zoo: Signature Theatre
Company’s revival of these one-act plays written at the beginning and the end
of Albee’s career was brilliantly directed by Lila Neugebauer and performed
by a stellar cast that deftly walked the tightrope between the cool
intellectualism and the visceral emotionalism that this late great playwright’s
work demands.

The Ferryman: If I were doing a numbered list, Jez
Butterworth’s magnificent family drama set against the back drop of the Irish
troubles would be at the top. I was exhilarated by Butterworth’s simultaneously
lucid and lyrical storytelling, the uniformly superb performances of the show’s
21-member cast (including a scene-stealing baby) and the nimble staging of director Sam Mendes and his design
crew, top-notch from set to sound.

Fiddler on the Roof in Yiddish: The trendy way to revive an
old musical nowadays seems to be to try to make it fit more with our
contemporary sensibilities. But under the astute direction of Joel Grey,
The National Yiddish Theatre's production of the classic Jerry Bock-Sheldon Harnick musical based on the shtetl
stories of Sholem Aleichem has taken a different approach: performing the show
in the language its Jewish characters would actually have spoken in the 19th century and treating their traditions with reverence. The result is
surprisingly fresh and deeply moving.

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child: Naysayers grumble that this
show didn’t deserve its Tony for Best Play but this sequel to J.K. Rowling’s
stories about the adventures of a boy wizard and his friends is filled with the kind of good old-fashioned storytelling by Jack Thorne and spectacular stage magic
created by director John Tiffany and movement specialist Steven Hoggett that
will appeal to the kids who grew up on the Potter books, the kids they’re now
raising and kids at heart like me.

The Jungle: Immersive shows were a growing trend in 2018 but
this one at St. Ann's Warehouse the Park Avenue Armory stood apart. It set theatergoers in the mdist of a
refugee camp that once existed in Calais, France and housed scores of refugees
from Afghanistan, Syria, Somalia and other war-ravaged countries, all
desperately hoping to start a new life in Europe. Some of the actors once lived
in the real-life camp but all of them—whether playing camp leaders, relief workers or smugglers—were superbly affecting.

Lewiston/Clarkston: The Rattlestick Theater transformed its
playing space to house the changing physical and emotional landscape of the
American West in Samuel D. Hunter’s linked one-acts set in contemporary towns
named for the 19th century explorers Meriwether Lewis and John
Clark. A chicken dinner was served in the break between the plays (offering
food themed to shows was another trend this year) and the actors moved around
the 51 people lucky enough to attend each performance but director Davis
McCallum and his impressive cast maintained an aching authenticity throughout.

On Beckett: Drawing on his finely-honed skills as both a
trained clown and a serious tragedian, Bill Irwin proved the perfect guide into
the sometimes-inscrutable works of the absurdist playwright Samuel Beckett. And
this one-man show at The Irish Repertory Theatre, which Irwin both wrote and
directed, was a master class in acting and a love letter to theater making.

Slave Play: The trend that most impressed me this year was
the growing number of shows that broke taboos—societal and theatrical—to look
at the knotty issue of race in new ways. I could have chosen Pass Over,
Antoinette Nwandu’s riff on Waiting for Godot; Jackie Sibblies Drury’s
genre-bending Fairview or Aleshea Harris’ What to Send Up When It Goes Down,
each deliberately unsettling and thoroughly thought-provoking. But I’m going
with New York Theatre Workshop's production of this one by Jeremy O. Harris because
it’s the most intimate of the genre and because its final scene was so unflinchingly raw and honest that it shook me to my core.

Sugar in Our Wounds: Identifying as an Afro-queer playwright,
Donja R. Love has written a trilogy that deals with the experience of being gay
and black at pivotal points in American history. This first, which played at Manhattan
Theatre Club, was set on a southern plantation during the Civil War, where a
group of slaves dream of freedom and two of the men unexpectedly fall in love.
Director Saheem Ali created a lovely frame for Love’s lyrical language and
passionate story and the audience the night I saw the show was filled with weeping
male couples, grateful to see themselves finally reflected in history.

Usual Girls: Several plays by promising young female
playwrights offered glimpses of how difficult it still is to be a young woman coming
of age in this society. Clare Barron’s Dance Nation popped up on many Top 10 lists and I liked it a lot too. But I was struck even more by the Roundabout Underground's production of this one
by Ming Peiffer, which tells the story of a young Korean-American woman
struggling with sexism, racism and the damage that oppressed people can turn on
themselves. Under Tyne Rafaeli's flint-eyed direction, it managed to be equal parts raunchy, funny and heartbreaking.

As I said, it was a great year for theater. Here's hoping that 2019 brings us just as much to cheer. In the meantime, I wish you and yours good health, much happiness and the chance to see as many shows as your heart desires.

December 8, 2018

Life has gotten crazy again and I couldn't find the time to write this week. So as I usually do when this happens, I'm turning on the ghost light that theaters use when they're temporarily empty. I do hope to get back on track next week but in the meantime, I did manage to do an interview with playwright Christopher Demos-Brown for Stagecraft, the podcast series I do for BroadwayRadio. Brown is making an auspicious Broadway debut with American Son, a contemporary drama that stars Kerry Washington, Steven Pasquale, Jeremy Jordan and Eugene Lee. You can listen to our conversation about the show by clicking here.

December 1, 2018

Over the past decade the playwright Theresa Rebeck has had
four shows premiere on Broadway and at least a half dozen others open in major
off-Broadway productions.And I can’t
figure out why. Rebeck has a fine
ear for dialog and a knack for coming up with intriguing situations and
interesting characters for her shows but she never seems to know quite what to
do with them.

That was certainly the case with Bernhardt/Hamlet, her
comedy in which Janet McTeer played the legendary 19th century actress
Sarah Bernhardt and that finished an eight-week run at the Roundabout Theatre Company’s
American Airlines Theatre last month. And it's true once again with Downstairs,
a drama that is now playing in a Primary Stages production at the Cherry Lane
Theatre through Dec. 22.

This time out the characters are the middle-aged siblings
Teddy and Irene. The situation is that Teddy, who’s lost his job and maybe his grip
on reality, has moved into the basement of the home that Irene, a timid woman who
keeps her head down as though bracing for a blow, shares with her husband Gerry.

As attentively designed by Narelle Sissons, the cramped and cluttered basement is not a
comfortable space. But Teddy—sleeping on a discarded sagging sofa, making breakfast
out of coffee brewed in an electronic pot and dry cereal poured into a dusty
bowl, and idling away his time on an old computer—seems eager to extend his stay
there.

And although the
siblings squabble over trite things like whether Teddy should be puttering
around all day in his underwear; and not-so-trite things like the way their
inheritance was divided; and even far-out things like Teddy’s musings about his belief in demons and whether Gerry may be one, Irene likes having her
brother there even as she makes it clear that her husband
wants her brother to go.

That sets up a triangle of competing loyalties and creates opportunities
for some Hitchcockian-style storytelling.Is Teddy insane?Is Gerry a
menace? Will Irene realize that either possibility could endanger her?

But having set her thriller in motion, Rebeck seems to have
gotten bored by it and doesn’t even bother to come up with satisfying
answers.By the play's end, I was left
with even more questions than I had at its beginning.

That’s not the fault of the cast. Once again, Rebeck has
attracted terrific actors. In fact, Tim Daly, who plays Teddy, reportedly asked
Rebeck to write a play that would give him and his real-life sister Tyne the
chance to appear onstage together for the first time (click here to read about that).

Under Adrienne Campbell-Holt’s supportive direction, the Dalys are both
charming in their roles, using the warm bonds of their own relationship to infuse the one
between Teddy and Irene.

They’re also having a ball playing against type with the
usually dashing Tim schlumping around as Teddy and the usually brassy Tyne nestling into Irene’s meekness. And the veteran
character actor John Procaccino chips in with a chilling performance as the domineering
Gerry.

All three make the show watchable.But not even their collective talents can make Downstairs more than that because the playwright hasn’t given them enough to work
with.

Rebeck has complained in the past that
critics are tough on her because she’s so prolific and because she's a woman (click here to read an interview with her). But maybe it's just because, as in this case, we think her work isn't good.